


The Adventures of Wee Bilbo

by pythagoreanpineapple



Series: The Adventures of Bilbo, Dwarf Lord, and Finhead [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Alternate Universe - Shire, Bilbo totally has them wrapped around his chubby little fingers, Dwalin Is A Softie, Dwarves in the Shire, Fluff, Gen, Kid Bilbo, Nothing but tooth rotting fluff, Pre-Quest of Erebor, Shire AU, Thorin is a Softie, Young Bilbo Baggins, and i know i don't, but i'm pretty sure they don't mind, wee!Bilbo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 03:34:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5651059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pythagoreanpineapple/pseuds/pythagoreanpineapple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Little Bilbo Baggins loves going on adventures, and when dwarves arrive in the Shire, well what bigger adventure could there be?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Adventures of Wee Bilbo

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to thank [airebellah](http://archiveofourown.org/users/airebellah) for encouraging me to write this, I could not have done it without her! She also, very kindly, helped with editing. That being said, all mistakes remain mine. So without further ado, please enjoy my first work in the Hobbit fandom! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing and receive no profit from this work.

“Then I rolled from out of the bush I was hiding in, and then – and then mama, I slashed ‘em with my sword! I saved the Prince’s life!”

 

“A Prince!” Belladonna gasped. “What happened then, love?”

 

“Then the Prince and I went on another adventure!”

 

Bilbo slashed the air with his favorite sword –a nice, sturdy stick that he found in the back garden of Bag End – as he followed his mother to the market. Listening to Bilbo’s stories about his adventures always put a smile on her face, and today was no different.

 

That morning after finishing elevenses, Belladonna had realised it was time to restock the pantry. Gathering Bilbo with a quick goodbye to Bungo, they had set off to the Hobbiton market. Belladonna always enjoyed this time with her only child, getting to hear where his imagination took him. With the sun shining down upon them, she knew today was to be a good day.

 

***

 

“Mrs. Proudfoot, did you hear?” Belladonna overheard someone whisper. “There are new blacksmiths down at the forge!”

 

“New blacksmiths?” Mrs. Proudfoot gasped. “Well, it’s about time! That old forge has been empty for ages!”

 

Even the smallest gathering of hobbits incited gossiping, and the market was no different. Normally not one for such hearsay, Belladonna continued on to Farmer Maggot’s stall. Keeping an eye on Bilbo, who was swinging his stick (“ _It’s a sword, mama_!”) at invisible foes, she perused the display of vegetables before her.

“They’re not just blacksmiths, they’re dwarves! From the Blue Mountains, is what I heard. Big hairy things, they are! And so scary looking! Well, they nearly gave the poor Miss Boffins a heart attack when they came stomping into town! The nerve…”

 

Belladonna stopped listening to the loud-mouthed hobbits, getting lost in her own thoughts. Dwarves in the Shire? Well, that was certainly interesting. She had always thought Hobbiton could use a little more excitement. Though inwardly, she scoffed at the attitude of the ladies she was listening to – not that she was eavesdropping, thank you very much! They ranted on about the dangers of larger folk, not that they would know, having never left the borders of the Shire.

 

“Bilbo, darling –” Belladonna looked down, only to see that Bilbo was no longer by her side. Panic seized her as she quickly looked around for her son.

 

“Bilbo?” she called. “Bilbo!”

Suddenly, she saw a familiar set of copper curls weaving through the adults crowding the market. But all she could do was shout after her son as he sprinted in the direction of the forge.

 

***

 

Bilbo ignored his mother’s shouts as he finally escaped the crowded market. There were dwarves! Dwarves, here, in the Shire! He had never been so excited in his life. Feet padding down the lane, ever-trusty sword in hand, Bilbo ran towards his next adventure.

 

As he approached the forge, he could discern two voices inside. He silently tiptoed along the side of the small building, wanting to have the advantage of surprise on his side. Slowly he made his way to the entrance and peered inside for just a moment before running and ducking around the corner.

Bilbo’s eyes widened in shock as he processed the sight he had captured. Never before had the young hobbit seen anyone so big, with the exception of the wizard who brought fireworks to Old Took’s parties, or so scary! They were both towering in height, massively built and covered in hair. The biggest one was covered in tattoos and had the weirdest hairstyle Bilbo had ever seen. He was definitely the more terrifying of the two, Bilbo decided. The other dwarf was almost as tall, though not as bulky, with dark locks cascading down his back. But he was by no means any less scary. He held himself proudly, chin lifted and back rigidly straight; Bilbo did not know why, but the dwarf reminded him of the Princes straight out of the fairy tales he loved so much. But he knew that he should not be deceived by looks.

 

‘ _They must be evil dwarf Lords here to destroy the kingdom and take the Queen_!’ Bilbo’s imagination supplied immediately. ‘ _I must stop them_!’

 

In the face of such mighty foes, it took Bilbo a couple minutes to regain his courage. But he was his mother’s son, and he would face any enemy head-on. Creeping back to the entrance, he sucked in a deep, bracing breath before crouching low to the ground and creeping through the entrance.

Quickly, his mind formulated a plan of attack. He had to defeat the dwarves in order to protect the Queen. Surely if he couldn’t stop them there was no one who could! (Well, perhaps the Queen; she had been on several of her own adventures after all, and had taught Bilbo everything he knew. But this was his mission, and he would prove his worthiness to her.)

 

He decided to take on the one with the majestic bearing first. Defeat the one in charge, and the rest would fall.

 

“I’ve got everything all set up fer the mornin’,” the one with the foreign hairstyle stated. “I say we rest fer the day.” Bilbo decided to call that one ‘Finhead’ and the other one would be ‘Dwarf Lord.’

 

‘ _Ha! They won’t be able to put their nefarious plans into action!_ Bilbo thought as he ducked behind a nearby crate. ‘ _I’ll get ‘em before they even have a chance!’_

 

“Aye, it’s probably for the best Dwalin,” Dwarf Lord agreed. “I’m not sure these halflings know what to do with us just yet. Hopefully they’ll be more receptive when the morning comes.”

 

‘ _I’m not half of anything, thank you very much_ !’ Bilbo’s mind yelled in protest. ‘ _It’s good I’m taking him out first. And what sort of name is Dwalin? I think I’ll stick with Finhead_.’

 

Indignation fueling him on, Bilbo continued forward. With the element of surprise, the hobbit knew he could win. Silently sneaking up behind the dwarves, Bilbo leapt forward, arm swinging – _WHACK!_

 

“I’ve got you now, evil fiend!” he yelled determinedly, slashing the black-haired dwarf in the back of the knee with his sword.

 

“What the – ?” Dwarf Lord jumped back in shock, eyes quickly scanning the room before landing on Bilbo’s tiny form.

 

“What’s this, then?” Finhead questioned as he stalked towards the little hobbit. Sensing the danger, Bilbo stared up in terror at the ginormous dwarf heading his way.

 

‘ _Oh no_!’ was all he had time to think before he was captured.

 

***

 

He had never seen anything so cute in his entire life. Copper curls framed chubby cheeks, bright hazel eyes staring up at him defiantly. Really, this tiny creature was too adorable for words.

 

Thorin was quite surprised, and admittedly impressed, that such a wee thing could deliver such a strong blow to his knees.

 

“What should we do with it, Thorin?” Dwalin’s voice was strained as he tried to keep a hold on the wiggling child, having little success as the creature valiantly struggled to escape the dwarf’s grasp.

 

“I’ll stop you, Dwarf Lord and Finhead!” the tiny child vowed. “I won’t let you take the Kingdom and the Queen!” He continued on, shouting about taking out his ‘foes,’ swearing that the ‘evil dwarves’ would never take him alive.

 

“Dwarf Lord? Finhead?” Dwalin repeated confusedly. “What ye on about, wee badger?”

 

“I think he’s referring to us, Dwalin,” Thorin drawled in amusement.

 

“Am I meant to be ‘Finhead’?” Dwalin growled gently at the bundle in his arms.  “At least ye got a decent name, Thorin.”

 

Thorin chuckled at that, watching as the child quickly ran out of steam. Stuck in Dwalin’s strong arms, his  constant wriggling only served to exhaust him.

“What’s your name, little one?” Thorin asked.

 

The child’s cheeks puffed out in anger. “I’m not little!” he defended. “I’m perfectly sized. You’re just too tall.”

 

This kid was adorable in his petulance – though in all honestly, Thorin would think the child adorable no matter the mood. From the soft look on Dwalin’s face, the other dwarf thought so, too.

 

“Right you are,” Thorin humoured the child. “I am Thorin, son of Thrain, at your service.” Introducing himself, he gave a quick bow.

 

“Dwalin son of Fundin, at yer service, wee badger.”

 

Thorin tried to hold back his grin from the child’s miffed expression.

 

“My name is Bilbo, Bilbo Baggins!” he cried. “Not ‘wee badger.’”

 

“And I’m not ‘Finhead’,” Dwalin reminded grumpily.

 

“Finhead is a cooler name than _Dwalin_. But that doesn’t matter; I’ve come to stop you from taking over!”

 

_Taking over? Oh, he must be playing._ Sharing a look with Dwalin, Thorin signed a quick ‘ _play along_ ’ in iglishmek to his friend.  

 

“Ah, you’ve discovered our plot, young warrior! Now we must get rid of you.”

 

Dwalin loosened his grip just enough to let Bilbo finally squirm free.

 

“I’ll save everybody, just you watch, Dwarf Lord!”

 

With that, Bilbo turned and belted Dwalin’s hand with his stick.

 

“Argh! I’ve been wounded!” Dwalin bellowed, to the shock of little Bilbo. The child’s eyes widened in horror before Dwalin winked, letting him know the dwarf wasn’t actually hurt. Bilbo sent him a beaming smile, relieved there was no real harm.

 

They quickly delved into the game, playing the mighty foes that little Bilbo was here to defeat. It reminded Thorin of the games he had played with Fili and Kili when they were children, and he adored every minute. So engrossed in playing with the young hobbit, they did not realise how much time had passed.

 

Bilbo was panting, sitting on top of Dwalin’s heaving chest – who had been mortally wounded just moments before - as he brandished his sword for the final blow. Thorin sat on a crate beside them, snagging a quick drink of water.

 

Who knew one tiny little hobbit could wear down two grown dwarves? Just as Bilbo was about to strike, a throat was cleared behind them.

 

Dwalin sat up abruptly, dislodging the little Bilbo with an undignified squawk. Thorin jumped from his seat, facing the entrance of the forge. There stood a female hobbit, hands on her hips and brow elegantly arched in question. Immediately there came an answering shout.

 

“Mama!” Bilbo leapt passed the dwarves to hug his mother. “Mama, mama! You’ve gotta help me! Together we can definitely take out Dwarf Lord and Finhead!”

 

At the mention of names given to them by Bilbo, the lady hobbit’s brows jumped to her hairline. She looked to Dwalin, who had finally managed to get to his feet, and then to Thorin. Embarrassed, Thorin blushed and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. With a quick mumble of “Thorin, son of Thrain, at your service,” he bowed. Dwalin, equally embarrassed at getting caught, muttered his own introduction.

 

To the dwarves’ surprise, Bilbo’s mother just giggled.

 

“Belladonna Baggins, at yours’ and your family’s.”

 

“Excuse us, ma’am –”

 

“None of that, now!” the hobbit huffed. “Bella is just fine. Especially since you’ve spent your afternoon taking care of this little troublemaker!”

 

“Mama!” Bilbo cried in protest.

 

“The wee badger was no trouble at all, ma’am.” At Bella’s unimpressed glare, Dwalin quickly amended, “Bella.”

 

“I’m glad to hear it. So what is this about taking care of ‘Dwarf Lord’ and ‘Finhead’?”

 

Bilbo grinned at his mother. “They’ve come to destroy the Kingdom and kidnap you, my Queen!”

 

“Oh, well then. They must be stopped, my darling warrior.” Belladonna surveyed the area, eyes landing on a broom not far from where she stood. Snagging the weapon, she dropped into a warrior position. Bilbo let out a ferocious (read: adorable) battle cry and the fighting commenced.

 

***

 

All tuckered out, Bilbo sagged against his mother’s side. He had not had so much fun playing in ages. He did not want to go home, but he was too tired to protest.

 

“Can I come back again tomorrow? Please?” he begged.

 

“If it’s okay with them, perhaps you could come play with Thorin and Dwalin when they’re not busy with work.”

 

“Aye, the wee badger is welcome any time,” Dwalin invited, smiling gently.

 

“Whenever you wish to play, you need only stop by and ask,” Thorin said, pushing Bilbo’s curls back from his forehead. Belladonna left with Bilbo in tow, Thorin and Dwalin seeing them out.

 

“Thank you again,” Belladonna said, pausing at the door. “He enjoyed your company greatly. Sadly he doesn’t have many children to play in his adventures with him,” she revealed quietly, shooting her son, who was sluggishly walking ahead, a sad look. “All of his more adventurous Took cousins live quite the distance away, so he doesn’t see them very often.”

 

“We are more than happy to let him play here when we are not busy with work,” Thorin said, revealing, “Children are rare for our race, so any time with one is a blessing. ”

 

Belladonna bid the dwarves farewell and as the Bagginses walked down the lane, Bilbo shouted, “Goodbye Dwarf Lord and Finhead! See you tomorrow!”

 

Soon, they were out of sight.

 

Chuckling, Thorin headed back inside the forge, Dwalin following behind.

 

***

 

Over the summer, an unlikely friendship bloomed. Bilbo would go back to the forge as often as he could (and as often as the dwarves’ schedule allowed), and they would go on amazing adventures. The dwarves explored all of Hobbiton with little Bilbo, completely at his whims. Even when Bilbo would ask Thorin to search the woods looking for elves, much to the dwarf’s disgruntlement, he would go  along without protest.

 

But as autumn drew nearer, the two dwarves knew it couldn’t last forever. Eventually, the time came for Thorin and Dwalin to return to Ered Luin.

 

With tears in his eyes, Bilbo latched onto Thorin’s legs.

 

“P-please don’t leave me!” the hobbit begged, tears running down his cheeks as he sobbed. He couldn’t bear to see his friends leave; after all, there were still so many adventures to be had!

 

“Dear Bilbo, don’t cry.” Thorin gently wiped the tears from the hobbit’s cheeks. “I don’t know when, but I promise we’ll come back someday.”

 

“You for sure promise?”

 

“Aye, it’s a promise.” Bilbo sniffled some more as Thorin patted his curls. Thorin knelt down, gently pressing his forehead against Bilbo’s. Bilbo threw his arms around the dwarf’s neck, afraid to let go.

 

“I’ll miss you,” he whispered into Thorin’s ear.

 

“I’ll miss you, too,” Thorin murmured earnestly.

 

He stood as Dwalin knelt to give Bilbo his own farewell. And if there were a few tears in Dwalin’s eyes, then he would not mention it. Once they finally finished their goodbyes, they wished a fond farewell to Belladonna and started their trek home to their families.

 

***

 

It had been a long time since he had last been in the Shire. Thorin was having trouble navigating his route, the winding paths and similar-looking homes throwing him off. If it hadn’t been for that damned wizard he would be at his destination by now, but the map given to him was extremely vague, creating more confusion than direction. Perhaps if Thorin had visited the Shire recently, he would be able to find his way. But it was unlikely; though the dwarf would never admit it, Thorin was quite directionally challenged.

He set off once again up the hill of Bagshot Row, reaching the very top when he finally saw it – a rune marked on a round green door. How had he managed to pass not only once, but twice? Determinedly ignoring his blunder, Thorin approached the door, not sure what to expect from the burglar Gandalf had found. A memory flashed in his mind unbidden of a chubby-cheeked hobbit waving around his little stick.

 

‘ _It’s a sword!’_

 

But Thorin shook his head of the thought. It wouldn’t be him. _Couldn’t_ be. Despite what he may wish for, Thorin did not believe in such coincidences.

He knocked thrice, listening for approaching footsteps. Light slowly flooded onto the step where he stood as the door gently opened.

  
“Thorin?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! There is a sequel to this that I'm just starting to block out the plot for, so I'll start working on that as soon as I get the chance. I've also planned out a third part which would be a series of one shots about the different adventures that wee Bilbo gets up to with Thorin and Dwalin! Currently, I have just a couple of ideas for it, so if you have a little adventure you'd like to see, let me know! I'd love to see if I can work something in for you! 
> 
> Also, I have a [tumblr](http://pythagoreanpineapple.tumblr.com/) if you want to stop by and have a chat!


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